Guilty and Broken
by cayt-lynne
Summary: Dean can't handle Sam's death.


Silence fell. The demons disappeared. Dean spun in a circle, watching them flee in bewilderment. Once they were all gone, he looked for Sam.

"Sam," he called. The he caught sight of a human figure covered in blood and crumpled on the floor. "Sam!"

Dean ran to his little brother, searching desperately for any signs of life. He shouldn't have bothered. It didn't take long to identify the source of all the blood. Sam's throat was split wide open. His vacant eyes stared up at Dean with the ghost of a reflection of Sam's dying thoughts. All Dean could see was accusation and betrayal on his little brother's face, as if Sam were whispering, "Why didn't you help me, Dean?" in his ear. Pain gripped Dean's heart and he fell to his knees beside Sam.

"Sam," he choked out. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

He said it over and over again, as if he could make Sam hear him. He didn't know how long he stayed there before Cas showed up. Castiel said nothing, just flew Sam and Dean back to the bunker. Dean wouldn't let go of Sam's body and his mental state was rapidly deteriorating. Cas reached out and touched Dean's forehead gently. Dean collapsed in a sleeping heap. Castiel stood for a moment, looking at the two brothers on the floor. Then he sighed, picked up Dean, and carried him to his room. When he returned to Sam, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

When Dean woke up a few hours later, Cas was standing beside his bed with a grimmer-than-usual looked on his face. Dean felt a like a child, wide-eyed and lost, as Castiel gripped his arm and pulled him up. Cas led Dean through the bunker, out into the open air that was calm and clear, unlike the inside of Dean's head and heart. The night sky stretched like a banner above them, dotted with millions of stars that shone with ancient, unwavering light. It seemed to Dean that they stared down at him, silent accusations travelling millions of miles to break his heart.

Sam's pyre was bigger than the other ones that Dean had stood next to, of course. His little brother's form lay in the center, already salted, waiting to be burned. Dean's throat constricted as he looked at it and Castiel's grip on his arm tightened. But the longer he stared at the shrouded body of Sam, the harder it was for Dean to stand. The harder it was to breathe. He dropped to his knees. Castiel looked down at him for a moment before stepping forward and placing his hand on the wood. Fire erupted from his fingers, quickly engulfing Sam and hiding him from Dean.

"Sammy…"Dean's whisper was nearly silent, but Castiel still heard. They settled in to watch Sam burn. They were there for hours.

At one point, Crowley appeared. He stood close to the flames. He reached in briefly to lay a hand on Sam. Dean watched silently, not processing Crowley's presence. Castiel, on the other hand, watched the King of Hell very intently and was surprised to see a single tear fall from his eye.

"Oh, Moose," he heard Crowley sigh. And then he was gone.

As dawn approached, Dean noticed that the flames were burning low. A whimper escaped him, closely followed by a choked sob. Castiel, who had not moved from Dean's side or spoken a word, looked down at him. Then he muttered something in Enochian that made the flames climb impossibly tall. Dean stared at them blindly for a moment before he jerked back in surprise. Was that…?

It was. The flames shaped themselves into flickers of Sam. There were his kind eyes, his joyful smile, his ridiculous long hair. Dean stared in amazement as the flames transformed into a laughing Sam. He could have sworn he heard the sound of that laugh echoing from the flames. And then the flames were acting like a screen, reflecting all of Dean's most treasure memories of his brother. Tears coursed silently down his face as he watched.

He watched as Sam took his first steps straight into Dean's arms. And then the one time Sam had come running to Dean with tears streaming down his face and blood dripping down his arm after he fell in the park. And the fourth of July in nineteen-ninety-six, when they burnt that field to the ground setting off all the fireworks Dean had been able to find. Next, Sam was joining Dean in the search for their dad. Dean chuckled a little bit at the prank war they had pulled. And then Sam was crying and smiling and hugging Dean when he had come back from the dead. After that, it was all one big flip book of every smile Sam had ever directed at Dean in his life. It was beautiful.

"Thank you," he whispered to Cas, eyes never leaving the final images of his brother. But eventually even those faded and Dean was left with nothing.

Castiel stayed at the bunker, afraid of what Dean might do if he was left alone. For three days, Dean locked himself in his room. He didn't speak, he didn't eat, and he didn't sleep. He sat on his bed, staring into space, a crumpled picture of Sam and Dean as kids clutched in his hands. When he finally emerged, he found Cas in the library, reading a book with a complicated plot that Dean remembered Sam trying to explain to him. Dean cleared his throat.

"Cas."

When Cas looked at Dean, he almost didn't recognize him. Dean was broken, maybe irreparably.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Why didn't you bring him back." Dean's voice was flat, his face void of any expression, but his eyes were sharp on Castiel's face. He didn't miss the tiny flinch or the way Cas's face was suddenly pale. He stayed quiet though.

"Cas."

Now the angel wouldn't look at him. Dean felt his energy surging to the surface.

""Cas! Tell me, you son of a bitch."

Finally, Cas murmured "I couldn't."

"Why the hell not!"

"Sam made a deal, Dean."

In a flash, dean was across the room, looming over Cas with an arm to his throat. "What deal?"

Castiel looked up at Dean, eyes full of sadness, but not moving to defend himself.

"He made a deal with Death. A while ago. That the next time he died, it would be final."

"He wouldn't," Dean growled, pressing harder in Cas's throat. But he knew that Sam would.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas pleaded. "Don't you think I tried?"

Dean's broken green eyes met Castiel's blue pain filled ones for a long moment before he nodded and released the angel. He looked at the floor, tears welling up and spilling over. He took a deep breath

"I just…" he whispered. "I just want my brother back."

Then Castiel wrapped his arms around his hunter. He felt the hitch in Dean's chest when he tried to take a deep breath. He felt the trembling of Dean's body as he cried. He felt the desperation and loss in the tightness of his arms when they wrapped around Castiel.

The angel held the hunter as he cried and soon Castiel's tears joined Dean's.

A month had passed since Sam's death. Dean and Castiel spent most of their time in the library. Dean because it was where he felt closest to Sam. Cas because it was where he could watch Dean. But today, they were in the kitchen, Castiel trying to coax some food into Dean. He had lost a lot of weight and Castiel was worried. When they heard a knock on the bunker door, neither of them moved. They just looked at each other in confusion.

"Was that-?"

"Yeah."

They both ran to the door, Castiel grabbing his angel blade and Dean sneakily throwing away the food that Cas had tried to give him. Standing in front of the large door, they looked at each other and nodded.

"On three," Dean mouthed. "One…two…"

He yanked the door open. And froze.

Standing in the doorway, dressed impeccably in a suit as usual, was Crowley. He held an object wrapped in towels in his arms.

"hello, boys," he said as he brushed past then and headed in the direction of the kitchen. Dean flinched. "Boys" used to be him and Sam.

"Crowley?" Dean turned to Cas, looking confused and helpless. "Why is Crowley here?"

Castiel shrugged and followed Dean as he caught up to Crowley.

Crowley stood by the countertop, unwrapping his bundle to reveal a pie nestled in the middle. He looked at Dean and Cas as they entered the kitchen.

"I brought pie."

Dean nodded and Castiel looked at him hopefully. Maybe he would be able to get Dean to eat something afterall.

"Why are you here?" Dean asked.

Crowley shrugged. "Just checking on you."

"I don't need you to check on me," Dean growled.

"Really? Because it looks like you're starving yourself and your pet angel doesn't know how to help. Moose wouldn't want this, Squirrel.

Dean snapped, lunging for Crowley's neck. With a flick of his fingers, Crowley had Dean pinned to the wall.

"Don't," Dean spat out. "Don't talk about him."

"Do not think you are the only one who cared about Samantha." Crowley held Dean for a moment longer before releasing him. "Eat something, Squirrel, you look awful."

And with that, he was gone.

Dean tried to kill himself the next week. And the week after that. But every time, Castiel was there. He would smell the blood and feel the surge of distress and pain emanating from behind Dean's door. The first time, he had stood outside the door, banging on it and kicking it until it cracked down the middle. He shouted himself hoarse. He got into the room in the nick of time to heal Dean with the limited power he had left. The second time, he was prepared. So when he felt the emotional spike and again smelled the blood, he spread his wings and just flew into Dean's room.

"Dean!" he shouted. The floor was covered in blood and Dean lay in the center of it all, also drenched in his own blood. "DEAN!"

The only response he got was a small whimper. Cas flew over and touched his head, instantly healing him and cleaning up all the blood.

"What is wrong with you, Dean?" demanded Cas. "I cannot allow you to die. This is not what Sam would have wanted!"

Dean's fist moved faster than Castiel realized, solidly connecting with his jaw. He stumbled back, eyes wide, a hand cupping his face.

"You don't know what Sam would have wanted," Dean growled. And then he sulked out of the room.

The third time, Dean was prepared. He was drew a blood sigil on the wall and locked his door. He let himself feel pain and fear and waited for Castiel to appear. He was there within second.

"Dean-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Dean slammed his hand into the blood sigil and sending Cas away. Then he sat on the edge of his bed. In his hand was one of Sam's knives, his favorite knife. Dean stared at it. This was the end for him. He would get to see Sam again. He wouldn't have to live with this pain that was always in his chest, the weight on his shoulders, the burning in his gut that whispered "failure, failure, you couldn't save Sam" at him nonstop. He would be free.

"-ean. Dean, damn it, stop. Dean!"

Sam's voice reached him as if through a tunnel. Dean looked up, and there was his little brother, flickering in and out of view. Dean stared as Sam strode forward and tugged the knife away. And in the next second, he was gone, taking the knife with him. Dean just stared at the spot where Sam had been, trembling. When Cas made it back to the bunker, running into Dean's room looking both hopeful and prepared for the worst, he found Dean still sitting there in shock.

Dean waited until Castiel had gone on a supply run and then he went to Sam's room, the one place he never went. Once he was there, he looked around at the few belonging scattered around the Spartan room. He ran his hands across the plaid shirts, pressed a palm against the stack of books on the bedside table, and then sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sam?" he whispered. "Are you here?"

The room dropped a few degrees but Sam didn't appear. Dean looked around desperately.

"Sam….please…I'm so alone."

Tears started to fall from his eyes. His shoulders shook and he felt himself beginning to slip back into that place, the one where that other Dean, a demon, whispered into his ears.

"You _killed _Sam! You failed him. If you had been faster, been paying attention, you could have saved him!"

"I tried…"

"No, no you didn't."

"Dean?" A new voice broke in. And then there was a hand, warm and reassuring in its weight, lying on his shoulder. Dean looked up, straight into the warm eyes of his brother. "Dean, are you ok?"

"Sam," he breathed.

"Dean. You gotta stop."

"Stop? Stop what?"

"Stop hurting yourself."

"Sam…." Dean looked down. "I can't do this without you."

"Yes, you can, Dean. You have to!"

"No…I can't."

"It's not your time, Dean. You need to get out, take Cas on a hunt, carry on the family business."

"Sam, please-"

But Sam was gone.

"SAM!"

The next day, Castiel walked into the library to find Dean combing through newspapers and books, searching the internet, analyzing data. Castiel watched for a moment before making his presence known.

"What are you doing, Dean?"

"Looking for a case."

Castiel smiled and went to join the hunter in his searching. His smile, however, disappeared when he heard the almost-silent mutter that came from Dean.

"It's what Sam wants."


End file.
